poetry

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Hellions of Holyfunk

(With a head nod to Bobbito)

The Hellions of Holyfunk rolled to Boulder
All 4-20 like green-sleeved blackbirds;
They shot over shoulders up 36
Throwing back Denver side famed last words.

The Hell Holies hit the Creek Path band shell—
Four score, so seven short of Gettysburg;
Lucky thing they didn’t need Shaw’s 54th
Or Panthers to snipe down the ghetto bird.

The H Dub washed up on a baked shore,
4 wide, 20 deep at the reservoir;
Eclecticity meant white bums over
Sagged pants plus emo geezers rouged up noir.

The Holy Hell, Funk All eyed their gigs list
And recalled it was nigh on time to traipse;
They could pull two thousand at their Cali stops
But what hassle just to top up vapes.

The Hellions of Holyfunk never stood still;
Gauge ever closer to E they unbecame
To join the hunt for jobs don’t test for joint,
To load Boulder up with more yet of the same.

Wet Boulder May

What a week on the weep under fix of the cloud
And the germ of a worm getting fresh with the shroud
It’s the shadow from sable of water table.
Curmudgeonly uncle has left us endowed.

Uche Ogbuji is a poet living in Boulder County (Superior). His book Ndewo, Colorado won the 2014 Colorado Book Award and a 2015 award for Environmental
poetry from
Westword.

Send poetry submissions of 250 words or fewer to poetry@boulderweekly.com.